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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23785567">Refuge</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genderfluid_Writes/pseuds/Genderfluid_Writes'>Genderfluid_Writes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harvest Moon: Animal Parade, Harvest Moon: Tree of Tranquility, Stardew Valley (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Assume the usual cast is here, Crossover, First Love, Fluff and Angst, M for Language and Themes, May or may not be character deaths, Multi, My First Fanfic, Non-binary character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Unrequited Love, no beta cos im a lazy coward, will I ever write smut? who knows</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:41:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,559</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23785567</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genderfluid_Writes/pseuds/Genderfluid_Writes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>With news of the Gotoro Empire closing in, a handful of residents from Waffle Island make the perilous journey over the sea, armed only with a friend of a friend's supposed assurance that they'd be welcome in Stardew Valley. For most, it means leaving family behind, but Chase only had unrequited love to run away from. However, reluctantly saddled with his best friend's young cousin and the informal leadership of the group, he has no choice but to get involved with life in let another backwater town. With the others missing their home and worrying about their families' safety, will he be able to stand with them in solidarity, or will he turn tail and run back to his old life? What if he misses the island more than he thought?</p><p>What if these displaced souls find new life in a horrible situation?</p><p> </p><p>First fanfic I've ever written, let alone publicly shared. Hope its not too terrible. Also there's no beta-ing atm, beware of mistypes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anissa | Anise/Jin | Won (Harvest Moon), Candace (Harvest Moon)/Emily (Stardew Valley), Chase (Harvest Moon)/Elliott (Stardew Valley), One-sided Chase/Owen (Harvest Moon), Renee | Lina/Toby | Tao (Harvest Moon), Shane (Stardew Valley)/Original Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1: Aground</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Welcome to my first fic, if the tags and summary didn't tip you off. Since I'm uploading these without a second opinion, feel free to give me constructive criticism but please be patient.</p><p>I was tentative about working with war and refugees as a theme, I don't want to do such an important topic injustice or anything. Also not a lot of experience writing romance, I hope it doesn't come across as cringy. But anyway, I felt like this is a theme not often explored in Stardew Valley fics. On top of that, I've made it a Harvest Moon ToT/AP crossover cos I love the characters to bits and am disappointed there's not more fics like it. (If its not there I'll do it myself, hmf.)</p><p>Anyway, enough with the anxiety, please enjoy the first chapter/prologue combo. Woo.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One would say it started on a night like any other, if one didn’t realise there was no such thing as a regular night. Harvey was downstairs in the clinic, sipping on his fifth coffee as he often did to stay awake. The bed called, but the paperwork called louder. The clock had since ticked long past midnight, his task nearly reached its end. Or at least it would have, if he were not interrupted by a loud banging on the door.</p><p> </p><p>The banging made him realise his posture, as he sat straight to stare at the door. He’d think it was the storm raging outside, the one that currently forced him to write by lanternlight, if it hadn’t continued incessantly. With desperation. Guessing it was a medical emergency, he went straight into business mode, standing up and striding over to the door to unlock it and let the poor visitor tumble in. It was Elliott. Very drenched, his hair and tailcoat dripping all over the welcome mat, but otherwise unharmed. As preluded by his knocking, his eyes were full of worry, and he was panting like he’d just run a marathon. He’d never seen the man quite this dishevelled.</p><p> </p><p>“People… hypothermia… bleeding,” he said between pants, hands on his knees. “Help.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, breathe, it’ll be okay” Harvey replied, already disappearing behind the counter, fetching his mobile doctor’s kit and an armful of space blankets and empty hot water bottles. Hypothermia and bleeding meant he needed to act fast, whoever it was. “Who’s hurt? Is it Willy? Leah?”</p><p> </p><p>Elliott just shook his head. “They’re refugees, they came by boat…”</p><p> </p><p>Harvey raised both eyebrows, his mustache twitched. Refugees? From where? They were far enough out of the way of the war with the Gotoro Empire that refugees would never end up there first… right? But then again, he was hearing more military planes on his radio nowadays.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, it doesn’t matter who they are. I’ll help.” He tossed Elliott a towel from the shelf. “But dry yourself off first, or you’ll be just as worse off as them!”</p><p> </p><p>After drying himself off, Elliott insisting that he’d get changed into dry clothes as soon as he was home, they hurried on back over to the beach, huddled under one umbrella (Elliott wasn’t able to find his at home and left in a hurry). After trudging through the mushy, wet sand, they stumbled in through the door to his beach cabin.</p><p> </p><p>The scene that laid before him was almost chaotic. The entire floor was covered in wet, shivering people, all covered in blankets and towels. Elliott’s bed had been stripped bare so that no one was left uncovered, the tiny wood stove providing barely enough heat to make the inside warmer than the outside. Cries of a baby pierced the air, cuddled by a dark-haired mother who was cooing to try and calm them. A lady with long, matted blue hair held a sobbing carrot-haired child. A fair-haired man, so pale his skin nearly matched, huddled almost paralysed, bar some shivering, under a mountain of damp towels, leaning into the embrace of a short brown-haired woman. He could see a ring glinting on her finger. Mixing in with the baby’s wails were the shouts of an equally pale, dark blue-haired guy, who exclaimed every time his teenaged companion pulled a piece of aquatic debris out of his freely bleeding feet. Overlooking them all, the only one that appeared calm- a silent sentinel in strawberry-blonde hair, eyebrows drawn, perched at Elliott’s writing desk.</p><p> </p><p>Harvey knew who to help first but, for the first few seconds, he stood at the door, mouth agape.</p><p> </p><p>“What the hell happened?”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Two days ago.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>A group of solemnly silent individuals hid in a concealed cove on Waffle Island. Chase watched from the back as Owen poked his head around the cliff, standing up straighter when the redhead reappeared and nodded his head, prompting him to poke the sleeping Chloe by his feet awake with his foot. She blinked awake and stretched her arms, bounding to her feet as if she hadn’t just woken up. Chase rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t stop the barest of smiles. Kids. Where did they get the energy?</p><p> </p><p>Owen returned, with Pascal appearing behind him and following. For a change, he held no pipe in his mouth, only a hard line on his lips. Go time. Now or never.</p><p> </p><p>“They’ll be here tomorrow, you know that. There’s no more time to ‘um and ‘ah’ about this. If you want to pull out now, it’s your last chance.” No one replied. They were ready as they’ll ever be.</p><p> </p><p>“Um, Pascal? Are you sure your contact is good for this?” Renee spoke up. It was rare she worried so much, but it was desperate times. Her hand clung hard to Toby’s, who was thumbing her, no, <em>their </em>engagement ring, looking upon her with tension in his face.</p><p> </p><p>Pascal nodded, his white hair mussed by the breeze, hatless. “My friend would trust Kent with his life. He said that you all would be safe in Pelican Town. I can’t guarantee much beyond that. That degree of separation is regrettable, but it’s the best we got.” He nodded to Toby. “Open her up.”</p><p> </p><p>Toby nodded back at him, reluctantly letting go of Renee’s hand. He uncovered the floating mass on the water and tossed the tarp into the water, where it sunk tied to a stone. The group looked on in apprehension.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s… a rowboat. You literally slapped a cabin on a rowboat and nailed on a motor.” Chase voiced what the rest of them were thinking. Granted, it was too large to actually be a rowboat- the motor was properly installed and the construction looked sound, including the makeshift cabin that covered most of the front deck. But, was it seaworthy?</p><p> </p><p>“It’s the best I could do. You can trust it, it’s been out in some rough weather even without the cabin. I would’ve given you my main girl, but if the soldiers saw it missing, they’d have me shot immediately.”</p><p> </p><p>That immediately got the group to sober up, as if they had forgotten the situation. They heard by radio- the Gotoroans were headed their way. The island would be annexed within 48 hours. No one knew for sure how they would be treated, but they had heard things. Were the rumours of war crimes true or propaganda? Some people weren’t willing to stick around to find out.</p><p> </p><p>Paolo had been sent a while ago to live with relatives and Taylor had been sent along with him. Chloe would’ve gone too, but she had refused to leave Owen and Ramsey’s side, evidenced by how she was now clinging to Owen’s leg. Anissa sighed and adjusted her headscarf. She wanted to stay with her husband, Jin. Being the only doctor on the island, he had to stay to look after the island’s residents in the coming days, and Anissa couldn’t argue with that. She would’ve stayed to help too if it wasn’t for the sleeping baby swaddled in her arms. Candace’s eyes were still red from a tearful farewell to her sister and grandmother. Shelly was too old for this boat ride, and Luna insisted she wouldn’t take up the limited room on the boat. ‘I’m tough’, she told Candace. Candace had to go, she was weaker, she knew that. She wouldn’t last a hostile occupation. But leaving the only family she had was not much better.</p><p> </p><p>There were some young people staying on the island, whilst others had already left. Being a (no longer) secret explosives expert, Phoebe, along with Calvin, insisted on heading up defence if things got nasty. Luke would’ve stayed for the same purpose… if his Dad wasn’t such a hardass. Dale had threatened to toss him out if he didn’t leave with Bo (the two of them were currently loading up the boat with the few belongings that the crew had brought along). Kathy had already left for Toucan Island with Selena (‘great friends’ people had called them, but Chase knew they were totally into each other and that they had actually eloped). Maya was meant to be on this trip, but she had come down with a nasty flu and had to remain. Julius had left months ago on work related reasons and had chosen to not return. Angela, the farmer, had to remain or else the town could starve. Gil chose to stay, he was born on the island and he was gonna die on the island if he had to. Plus, if something happened to his father, people would look to him for leadership.</p><p> </p><p>As for Chase? He had no family here. In his opinion, he had no family anywhere anymore. He had only the hope that Yolanda would take him on as an apprentice, but what’s the use of that dream in a war? There was space on the boat after everyone else was accounted for, he’d rather take a stab at survival elsewhere. But mostly, it was on the insistence of Owen that he was leaving. He looked over at his friend as Owen comforted his little cousin. He and Owen were an unlikely pair at a glance, but they had more in common than he had first expected. What started as idle conversation, Owen slumped drunk at the bar, evolved into lunches before work, and drinking sessions by the fire as they both unloaded the day’s woes. Okay, it was mostly Chase unloading, but Owen was a good listener. Owen opened up about his past, his dead parents, Chloe’s absent parents, Ramsey’s tough love. It took that and a confession from Angela, promptly rejected, to make Chase realise he had fallen hopelessly in love with him.</p><p> </p><p>He could never tell anyone, however. The town was too conservative- Kathy and Selena had to run away after all. On top of that, he didn’t know if Owen would love him back, if he could even love him back. He cared for him, that’s for sure, but surely it was purely platonic? With these thoughts running through his head, his face drooped, the mask falling off as the others were turned away, busying themselves with preparing the boat. It was easier being gay on the mainland. There were more choices of bachelors too. But he didn’t love them, and he didn’t love the city. He loved the tranquillity of the country. He loved Owen. Maybe one day he would be able to tell him.</p><p> </p><p>“Chase? Chase!” He snapped back to attention and looked towards Owen, who had spoken to him. Somehow, without noticing, he had approached him. “Hey mate, are you okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Chase shrugged, re-tensioning his facial features, trying to appear his usual bitter self. “As okay as the situation allows.”</p><p> </p><p>Owen’s shoulders relaxed a little. Somehow this guy always tried to make the best out of any situation. Damn his smile, and those bulging biceps…</p><p> </p><p>“Time to get in.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah yeah, gimme a second.”</p><p> </p><p>Chase tentatively stepped onto the boat, squeezing inbetween the bodies already onboard, the crowd mostly in the cabin and partially on deck. Only Owen and Chloe now remained onshore. There was barely enough room for Chloe, let along a great hulking miner…</p><p> </p><p>Wait.</p><p> </p><p>No.</p><p> </p><p>Horror dawned on Chase’s face as he turned back around. Owen had heaved Chloe onboard and handed over her bright pink and purple backpack. Chloe’s smile beamed as she put it down and held out a hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Owen! Let me help you on now! Careful, it’s squishy!”</p><p> </p><p>Owen looked on, lips drawn tight. Chase’s stomach dropped to his feet. Chloe’s face dropped in unison.</p><p> </p><p>“…Owen?”</p><p> </p><p>Never had Chase wanted to be so fucking wrong.</p><p> </p><p>Owen’s lip quivered, his voice breaking. “I’m not coming, kid. I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>It took a moment for the realisation to dawn on her little face.</p><p> </p><p>“NO!!!” she cried out. She nearly clambered over the side back onto land, but Candace had grabbed her by the waist and dragged her back.</p><p> </p><p>“LET ME GO!” The tears started flowing as she kicked and screamed. Bo leant a hand at holding her down before she kicked Candace down. The others turned away, knowing it was for the best, but not daring to look. Toby tried to start up the motor while Renee started to sob. Anissa’s baby started to wail at the ruckus. Even Luke looked solemnly down at his feet. Chase stared at Owen, gritting his teeth, trying to hold back angry tears. He squeezed to the side of the boat. Why did he keep this from him??</p><p> </p><p>“You lied to me! You lied to her!” he spat at Owen, who by now looked like a kicked puppy.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry! It was the only way to get her to come. I have to stay, and look after Ramsey…”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want any excuses! We can make room! Fuck your old man!” Chloe’s screams still rang behind him, now choked up with tears. The baby cried louder.</p><p> </p><p>Owen fell to his knees and awkwardly leaned over, grasping Chase’s hand with both of his. In that moment, it felt like a bubble had formed around him. The wails dimmed. The anger fell from Chase’s face along with a couple rare tears. For a moment there was only him, and Owen, and clasped hands, a small object pressed between them.</p><p> </p><p>Owen’s lips trembled as he choked out his next words slowly and deliberately, “These are all my savings. Please, look after Chloe! I know you’re not close to her, but I trust you!”</p><p> </p><p>He trusted Chase. He could argue back anymore, the fight sucked out of him. Damn this, what was he worrying about before? Forget being ‘just friends’, it was better than possibly never seeing him again. Before he could overthink it again, he leaned down and kissed his knuckles. That broke the dam for Owen, whose tears began to flow freely. He knew his best friend was in love with him. He noticed, he knew for a while now. Even though he felt he couldn’t return that kind of love, he cared for Chase like he was family. The best he could do without being ingenuine was lean over and plant a soft kiss on his forehead. At that moment, the motor sputtered to life, so he immediately let go and stepped away from the boat. Chase stood there, mouth gaping, silent, as his hands fell to his sides. In one hand he clutched the small, pink purse full of gold. As the boat pulled away out towards the sea, Owen ran up to the furthest point on the bank.</p><p> </p><p>“Promise me, Chase! Promise me you’ll look after her!”</p><p> </p><p>Behind him, the cabin door slammed shut behind him in an attempt to contain Chloe, her wails now muffled. Most of the group were now crammed in with her. Only Toby, who manned the motor, remained beside him. The slamming door had snapped Chase back to reality and, moments later, the dams finally opened for him as well.</p><p> </p><p>“I will Owen! I will look after her! I promise!” his cries broke across the water as he broke into tears, his legs giving out below him. He fell to his knees as he finally let out what he’d been bottling up, wailing as his tears fell into the ocean. When he finally picked himself up enough to peer back up, Owen was no longer there.</p><p> </p><p>Toby said nothing, and he never would. He was lucky to have his love on-board, so he let him grieve. Chase would be forever grateful for that.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I have ideas for future chapters but no set plan, this is very much a WIP. How many chapters? Who knows, lol.<br/>Also, the 'major character death' warning is only because I expect it to be inevitable. Who will it be? Idk completely yet, but I thought a heads up is appropriate.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2: Where to from here?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thankyou to Silver_Shortage_in_Markarth for the encouragement! It's helped spur me on to write another chapter so soon :) .</p>
<p>This one is far less eventful, but some necessary plot setup is included. Hope you enjoy it regardless.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A curtain fell over Chase’s thoughts as a curtain of hair fell over his line of sight, followed by the face of the man that’d sheltered them from the storm. When Chase’s eyes finally flicked over, Elliott was satisfied he had his attention, and gave him a polite smile. Polite, Chase assumed, because he was only smiling with his lips.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tea or coffee? There’s some hot water left over,” asked Elliott. Chase shuffled on his chair to prop up a foot on the chair, relieving some of the ache on his tailbone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Coffee, please.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That response seemed to give Elliott the ghost of a more genuine smile, eyes narrowing just the slightest.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Marvellous. I’m not much of a tea drinker myself, and the others here are using up my already meagre supply.” He straightened back up to go fetch him the coffee, and after asking for his preference, returned with a mug- white coffee, no sugar. Chase accepted this with a grunt of thanks, taking a generous sip. He didn’t want to sleep just yet, but his body was protesting against it. He wasn’t sleeping until he knew what was going to happen next.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The energy of the room had tempered since Harvey arrived, largely thanks to the storm calming enough to allow the power back on (and to Harvey for finally getting lidocaine into Luke’s feet). The room was finally warmer now that the little old radiator in the cabin could lend its heat. Anissa had managed to calm her baby by coaxing them to feed. She now sat on the bare mattress with her shawl covering herself, sipping on some of Elliott’s meagre tea rations. Toby had fallen asleep wrapped in a space blanket, along with his fiancée to warm him. He had the least sleep out of everyone, having stayed up nearly the whole two days driving the boat, bar one Renee-mandated nap. She too had clocked out for the night moments ago in his arms.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase’s gaze flicked over his coffee towards Luke and Bo, who were chatting by the still-alight wood stove. Luke’s energy had been lessened by the cold and his injuries, but he appeared no less himself, with Bo having to pull up the space blanket twice where it had fell off his shoulders as he gestured. His now stitched and bandaged feet sat stretched out in front of him. Chase then looked towards Candace and Chloe. On the trip, Chloe had cried near constantly on and off the first day, only stopping once she had tired herself out. It hadn’t taken her long this time to tire out again. She was already asleep in Candace’s arms. <em>Thank Goddess</em>, thought Chase, it was hard for even him to have to hear. Why did Owen leave Chloe in his care? It seemed obvious that Candace was better off taking care of her, and he planned to bring this up when appropriate.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hearing a new conversation beside him, he peered up to see the doctor had just finished on the phone and gone to talk with the long-haired man that brought him the coffee.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I was hesitant to wake him up, but Lewis said he would’ve been up in an hour or two anyway. He’s driving over now.” Harvey explained. He was fiddling with his tie clip, adjusting it even though it was still on straight. “I’d have waited, but… I thought that… you know, your cabin, this many people…” Elliott held up a hand to stop his train of thought.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s quite alright, Harvey. My accommodations are a bit… inadequate for a group this size, but I am prepared to shelter them until better ones are arranged.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase wrinkled his nose. Normally he supposed his formal manner of speech was simply out of respect for the doctor, but judging by the fact that he still bothered to say ‘marvellous’ in this day and age probably meant he was just peculiar… or had a pompous ego. Harvey noticed Chase’s expression and dropped his hand from his shirt.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you alright… um…” Obviously he mistook his expression for discomfort.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase attempted to relax his face, but he knew he’d still look mildly displeased. “It’s Chase. And I’m fine.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ah.” Harvey visibly relaxed. “That’s good. I feared a larger emergency, but it seems that has mostly stabilised. I can’t thank you enough Elliott.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elliott chuckled and flicked his hair back over his shoulder. Chase’s ‘ego’ theory seemed to gain more evidence by the moment. “It’s quite alright Harvey. I should thank you too, but I think everyone else here is even more thankful.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase was indeed thankful, he wasn’t an asshole, but he also hated being made to thank people, deserved or not. But these people still had to help him, so he muttered a thanks regardless.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, aha…” Harvey blushed just the slightest. “I’m just doing my job. Speaking of which, the young man over there, Luke I think it was. He’ll need to see me later to have the stitches in his feet taken out, and I’ll arrange a wheelchair for him to use until he’s healed. Other than that, the others will recover without me. Lewis said he’d call Marnie to make soup, but make sure everyone rehydrates in the meantime.” He turned his attention to Chase. “I believe water supplies were inadequate on the trip?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase merely shrugged. “We had enough for three days, but between the tears and the travel sickness, we went through it quicker.” They had brought ginger for sea sickness, but that wasn’t enough for the seas that were rougher than expected. Harvey asked Chase some more questions about their travel provisions and conditions on the ship. He was about to ask what happened when they hit land but was interrupted by a knock on the door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ah, must be Lewis.” Harvey started forward, but Elliott beat him to the punch and went to open the door first. Lewis stepped in, his felt cap perched as usual on his greying hair, dressed for business as if it were already 9am, dry except for the wet sand that he wiped onto the doormat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ah, thankyou Elliott.” He took a moment to drink in the sight. “Well, this is something. I’d never expect refugees washing up here of all places, I assumed we were far enough away from the war for this.” Seeing as Harvey was standing near Chase, and Chase was the only one not preoccupied with another one of his companions, he rounded on him first. “I’m Lewis, the mayor of Pelican Town. Where do you hail from? Are you Gotoroan?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase would laugh if the situation weren’t so unfunny. “No, we’re citizens, just… a bit homeless right now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I see, you are merely fleeing to a safer zone. That makes my life easier. From what town are you? What region?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase took a moment, still staring seemingly unamused through the diminishing steam from his mug. “Waffle Island, heard of it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lewis finally snapped to attention, his eyebrows raised to the roof. “I certainly have. That’s… concerning. I think you should come with me, it might be better to discuss things in my home.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Might not be a good time.” Chase flicked his head towards the rest of the room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, you can relay what we discuss to them later.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was Chase’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “You think I’m some kind of leader?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…You’re not?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can see how it looks, but that’s just how it is. You’re better off talking to Toby. The, uh, guy with the pale hair.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lewis took a cursory glance at the sleeping man. “Not right now I’m not. Why him?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He navigated and drove the boat.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But is he in charge?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase sighed. They never appointed a leader. He assumed Owen was going to assume a natural leadership before he bowed out. <em>No</em>, he corrected himself, <em>he was never coming in the first place</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, never mind. The sooner we sort this out and get you settled, the better. You’re awake and unoccupied, so you might as well come.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase grimaced like he just ate wet bread, but he didn’t really have a choice. “Fine, let’s go.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Excellent, we’ll be taking my truck.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase sat on the pristine leather couch in Lewis’s house- practically a mansion in the town, it seemed, even though he appeared to live alone. He had wondered to himself where the taxes were going. Right now, however, he was pouring over a copy of the <em>Zuzu Chronicle</em>, headline ‘Gotoro invades Waffle Island, Generals concerned at proximity’. After finishing the read, he dropped the paper with a <em>slap</em> onto the coffee table.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So it happened.” He leaned on his elbows and knotted his fingers. “Not news to me, but I suppose this confirms it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lewis leaned into his armchair after retrieving the discarded paper. “How did you know to leave that night anyway?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“All I know is that our mayor has ‘connections’, I don’t stick my nose into business that’s not mine on purpose.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Commendable. And the trip, two days crammed on a small boat? Must have been a rough trip.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase rolled his eyes at the attempt at small talk. “No shit. I mean, no <em>sir</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If Lewis was offended by the statement, he didn’t show it. “People are worried, an act of aggression like this, so close to peaceful areas of the mainland? It took you two days to get here by makeshift speedboat, imagine what a navy could do from that distance? The air force?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Yeah, I can read,</em> Chase thought. But instead of voicing that, he elected to pick at the sleeve on his sweater. The thought of coming here wearing a blanket felt undignified, so he had delved into his luggage. Thankfully, the plastic bags containing his and other’s belongings in their packs had held. “The man we were supposed to contact, Kent, I thought we’d be meeting with him?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, I’m not sure what you were thinking, but he’s merely another resident here. But his advice was right, we are welcoming here, we’ll help you. But for that to happen…” he held out his hand. “I need your passports, so I can contact the proper authorities.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase thumbed the stack of passports in his pocket. He had collected from everyone before he left the cabin. He needed to trust this guy, he realised that. But surely he had a legal right to hang onto them? “I’m not handing them over until I can talk to Kent.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lewis let out an exasperated sigh, dropping his hand moments later. “Fine. I guess I can wake the man early if I must.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After a phone call packed with fake politeness and pleasantries, there soon came a knock on the door. After Lewis called him in, in came a man with brown-blond hair, six feet tall, visibly fit even through his clothing. You’d guess he was a military man, even if he weren’t wearing a worn-out Republican Army jacket.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Lewis, are you sure this couldn’t wait until morning?” Kent asked gruffly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Apologies Kent, but this… young man wanted to see you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kent grunted in response. Chase already liked this guy better. “Fine.” he sauntered into the living room and held out a large hand towards Chase. “Kent.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase took the hand and shook it once. “Chase. I was told Pascal knew you through a friend.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Pascal? Ah, the old sea captain.” He dropped his hand. “I remember, nice guy. Chatted about home. Didn’t think his friends would actually take me up on my invitation.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m as surprised as you, but as you can guess, we didn’t have many choices.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, can’t blame you, really.” he sat on the remaining armchair. “War is hell, but I don’t need to tell you that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Indeed, and I bet I don’t need to tell you that either.” He’d noticed that there was a patch-up like a thready scar on the shoulder of his jacket, along with a matching one on the back of it. The area was faded, probably with repeated washing… or bleach.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lewis cleared his throat. “Great, now that you’ve met each other, you can relax.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What was the problem?” Kent went to grab a cigarette tin from his jacket pocket, but quickly put it back after a disapproving shake of the head from Lewis.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I need his and his companion’s passports so I can refer them to the authorities. Since they’re citizens, they can get wartime government assistance, right?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sure. Where are they from?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Waffle Island.” Chase replied instead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kent’s eyes widened and finally fell on the paper in Lewis’s hands. He then crossed his arms as he tried to stifle a laugh.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lewis stared at him, leaning forward just a bit. “And may I ask what’s so funny?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That you think the government’s gonna help them. They might get deported… or taken into the refugee camps, if they’re lucky.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase straightened up, hand tight around the passports, eyes flicking between the two men. “…Is that true? Why?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Kent, I don’t think…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You weren’t on the inside, so I can forgive you for being ignorant.” Kent then took out a cigarette and lit it anyway, despite Lewis’s sputtered protests.  “The powers-that-be want this stalemate ended soon. Before I was discharged, I heard it go around that they were considering appeasement. A white peace, in exchange for letting Gotoro officially incorporating occupied territories into their ‘glorious empire’. This attack was obviously to grab one last outpost close to our civilians.” He let out a puff of smoke. “I’d bet my life savings that within a few days, our new friends will be citizens of Gotoro. They then automatically get assigned to the camps for proper processing… unless the Empire asks for their new citizens back as part of the deal.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase’s jaw mentally dropped, but he tried to keep an air of composure.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s… fucked up.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kent shrugged. “Believe me or not, what happens will happen.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lewis shook his head. Was it in disagreement, or pity? “Either way, authorities have to be contacted, and your passports will need to be seen. I’m sure the Republic will take care of its citizens.” Kent gave a snort in response, and Lewis gave him the stink eye in turn.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Whatever you say, call them, fine, but we’re hanging onto our passports.” Chase said in a stern and measured tone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, come on boy! I’m not trying to be malicious. This will make things a lot easier for you, I’m trying to help!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase’s eye twitched. Another thing he loathed was being treated as if he was a kid. He was 24, he’d been to college, he had a stable job not three days ago. He merely looked young- short, slim, fair hair, he could be mistaken for an 18 year-old. He’d come to terms with that, but he would not stand to be disrespected. He took a deep breath.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fine, you can take them.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He got to his feet, taking the stack of passports out of his pocket. Lewis seemed to relax, assuming he placated him, and held out his hand expectantly. Chase took one slow step forward, before taking two quick ones in the opposite direction towards the fireplace. Before Lewis understood what was happening, Chase tossed all nine passports into the flames.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lewis stood there in shock, jaw dropped, while Kent merely paused with the cigarette dangling from his lips. Lewis’s shock soon morphed into anger, as he got to his feet, red in the face, gritting his teeth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What in Yoba’s name are you doing? Are you insane?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase started to feel a manic calm wash over him as he stared at the passports, the flames licking the paper into ashes. He turned to face the mayor, his facial features serene, with the exception of wide pupils and a cocked head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We never lived on Waffle Island.” He ground out deliberately. “We are homeless, citizens of this nation that never got passports. We had been displaced from where we were boarding because of the war and require assistance.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You.. you can’t do this! Do you understand how difficult a position that puts me in?! How am I supposed to convince the police you’re not terrorists?!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase merely shrugged. “You wanted to help, you’ll just have to figure it out.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You punk! You manipulative piece of…” he was about to continue with his rant but was interrupted by… laughing? He turned towards the source and found Kent, chuckling as he put out his butt in his cigarette tin. His amusement at the exchange made Lewis go positively scarlet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not bad, ‘boy’.” said Kent. “Not bad.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Wanted and Unwanted Duties</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another long, scene-setting chapter, but whatever. I'm back baybee.</p>
<p>I saw that this fic has got a few more hits since I last checked ages ago. Thanks so much for reading!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>What strange times to live in. Less than a day ago, the sea had spat them out onto a reef. And now, this evening, they were having… a pizza party?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase sat at the bar of the Stardrop Saloon, whilst the rest of the crew stuffed their faces and moaned over stretched cheese and pepperoni. Well, except for Chloe, who picked off the pepperoni. After the hell they’d been through, it was nice to see her usual self begin to return. From what he’d seen before, she was never upset for long, though those were different circumstances. Actually, it seemed that everyone, if only for a brief while, were themselves again. Being a cook, Chase knew well how food can, so to speak, ‘feed the soul’ as well as the body. Without having proper food for two days, Marnie’s soup from earlier was heavenly enough. Pizza felt downright luxurious. Even Anissa, the health queen she usually was, was carrying on with every bite, as if she’d momentarily forgot about worrying about the husband she left behind. Her baby slept soundly in a borrowed pram, the only one in the party not eating pizza.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase wasn’t ignoring the pizza either (he wasn’t stupid enough to miss an opportunity to eat), but he was only on his second slice as Gus, the bar’s chef, waltzed out of the kitchen with yet another pizza. As he put it down, the hungry patrons descended on it like a flock of rabid seagulls, with the excepted of Luke, who had been stopped trying to pop a wheelie with his newly acquired wheelchair enough times that Bo elected to put on the brakes. Instead, he squirmed restlessly at a nearby table until the pizza party was brought to him, much to his chagrin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before Gus could leave, Chase wordlessly stopped him with a raised hand. He delved into his pocket for his wallet (his own wallet, not the pink purse of… Chloe’s savings), and tried to count out some money. This was met with a shake of the head from Gus.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m not gonna take any money from ya this time, how can I take money from flotsam?” He chuckled at his joke, coordinated with a wiggle of his moustache.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Please.” Chase said sternly, not replying to the ‘joke’. “I don’t like to owe anyone.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s not a debt if it’s a gift,” he replied, “but if you insist, you can help make pizzas, I need to get ready for this evening’s customers.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now this was something that he can do. Maybe if he buried his head in the kitchen, that Mayor won’t bury him in ‘spokesperson duties’. He packed away the wallet and followed him to the kitchen. He’d much rather do this with one of his trusty aprons (yes, he packed both of them, even ahead of more shirts), but this would do. He glanced around- a pretty standard commercial bar kitchen, he’d seen plenty, with the ingredients were already laid out. With Gus watching on, he folded up his sleeves and got to work- spinning out the dough, dishing out the sauce, chopping and scattering the toppings, sliding it into the oven. Partway through his second pizza (how many pizzas was that lot going to eat anyway?), Gus finally spoke up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You a chef, are you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Chef. </em>At that, Chase stood up a little straighter, stuck his chest out a little farther. Usually he preferred not to physically respond to praise from a stranger, but he was not used to being called ‘chef’.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You can tell, huh?” he glanced over at him, though barely faltering in his work past that initial reaction.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah. It’s the… ‘fluency’ if you will, the mannerisms, the technique. And the fact you’re wearing a button-up shirt fresh off the boat.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase looked down at his black shirt. He didn’t think too much about it, he really just didn’t like t-shirts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Except for that old band t-shirt that Owen let you borrow once, that you secretly still kept and slept in… </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>He had to physically shake that train of thought out of his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, thanks. I’ve only ever been a bar cook though.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Self-taught or trained?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A bit of both I guess, I did go to culinary school.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That prompted another moustache wiggle as Gus thought to himself. He was quiet long enough that Chase got another pizza in the oven before he spoke again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know, I’ve never had the Saloon open for breakfast, I like to sleep in. Maybe I could take a breakfast chef on. Business has been good, and I got no competitors after all.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase raised his eyebrows as he put the pizza paddle down. “Are you offering me a job or just taunting me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I might offer you a job. You need it, and I feel it in my gut that you could do it.” He replied as he slapped his considerable belly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was actually offering him a job. It’s only breakfast, but it’s still a more noticeable position than cooking basic bar food. One of his rare, genuine smiles spread across Chase’s face as he strode over and grabbed Gus’s hand, giving it more shakes than he’d usually allow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll take it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Great! You’ll start tomorrow.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase rode the high of the unexpected job offer all the way up until Lewis arrived with the dinnertime crowd. He tried to cower away in a corner, but alas, even a paying job didn’t take away from his unwanted duties as the default Waffle Island diplomat, which was looking more and more ‘official’ by the moment. The only solace was the fact that Lewis was still annoyed and pissy at his passport-burning stunt, which was being met by an equal amount of amusement on Chase’s part. The trouble that it would cause Lewis didn’t make him feel bad. Not that Chase was some apathetic jerk. To him, Lewis just felt like a generally unpleasant man.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The plan was as follows- the group were to stay in the Saloon rooms until all were either assigned a homestay or were built some other dwelling. Gus had the rooms mostly free until tourist season. While charitable, it wouldn’t be completely free, as he was fully intent on finding jobs to busy the Waffle folk with (which Chase had a head start on). As to where to from there, the long term? “That’s for later”, he said, which is something that Chase could agree upon. It was then of course, his job to list everyone’s names and their former occupations.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Why can’t he just ask them himself? Lazy prick.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maybe he was being harsh, but he was just… so tired. By the time he got away, it felt like half the town had descended upon the saloon- both the usual crowd, he presumed, plus everyone wanting to gawk at the visitors. Word spread around this town just as fast as on the island, it seemed. It was around that time too that a somewhat more refreshed Elliott walked on in, hanging his now dry tailcoat up at the door. This surprised Chase- after all that chaos turned his house upside down, he assumed he’d still be sleeping. Maybe he’d been judging him too harshly as well, and totally not just because, without the waterlogging and bad lighting, he could now properly appreciate how good-looking he was. He seemed like the type he’d go for in college, the ‘high art’ type. The pressed shirt, the flowing hair that was just as much golden as it was red, the strong chin, the flawless skin that was either due to a ten-step skincare routine or good genes. Or was that… he swore he could sense the beginnings of summer freckles, but maybe he was wrong and just seeing what he wanted to see. Regardless, not his type, he’d been used up by enough rich kids to not be swayed by looks. He hoped. Besides, his type now was much stronger, with much shorter, redder hair…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fuck. He had to shake that thought out again before he got melancholy. When he managed to dislodge it though, it seemed that Elliott had ‘magically’ appeared in front of him. He’d probably noticed him staring and took that as an invitation to come over.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase straightened up and glanced away, but that didn’t stop Elliott from taking the stool next to him. He expected some smartass comment, but instead he got a,</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How are you managing?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He looked back over at him out of the corner of his eye, a little surprised, but still not daring to turn his head. No, there were no freckles, but there were noticeable bags under his eyes. Had he slept at all? I guess he’d have to have been cleaning his cabin, the rest of them barely did anything to help after all. Yeah, he probably was way too harsh, making assumptions based on his ‘posh’ nature, even when this man offered what little he had to them. Why was such a posh guy living in a cabin with no proper kitchen or heating anyway? He decided then to turn and face him properly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m… tired, but fine. Not sure about the others. Uh…” he drummed his fingers on the bar, so he wouldn’t be tempted to rub the back of his neck. “Thanks for the help.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elliott smiled at that- one of the proper ones, like when he accepted that coffee earlier. “It simply the proper thing to do, but thankyou for the gratitude.” His manner of speaking hadn’t changed, it seemed it was indeed a normal thing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I should repay the favour sometime. I insist, I don’t like to owe people.” He said for the second time today. He gestured to Elliott with one hand. Not at anything in particular, but like he was gesturing at him as a person. “You don’t cook much, do you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elliott chuckled- more like his polite smile, it was ingenuine, only with the mouth. “As evidenced by my lack of a proper kitchen? Alas, I never really taught myself, and no one else did either.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can, I’ll cook you a meal sometime.” After a moment, he felt the need to add- “As thanks, nothing more.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elliott accepted this with a nod. “Come by any time, I’m usually home at my desk, or nearby at the least.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase accepted this acceptance with a nod as well, then elected to look anywhere else besides his face. He didn’t want it to seem like he was getting chummy with him or anything. Instead, he looked around the bar- pretty standard country bar, reminded him of the Sundae Inn. The companions that had not yet retired to their rooms tended to stick to their own tables, with the exception of a few nosier or pre-acquainted townsfolk. Marnie, the middle-aged women with wild red hair that had served the soup, was chatting with Renee as if she was an old friend. Renee, while still subdued compared to normal, seemed to be managing to keep up with the conversation. A blue-haired girl, the barmaid, was serving drinks to the other bluenette, Luke, still restless and just about ready to stomp on his injured feet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>On the other side of the bar, a group of young adults had tried to rope Bo into their game of pool. Bo, shy as usual, didn’t accept the invitation, but didn’t fully reject it either, instead standing next to a purple-haired girl to just observe the game. Drifting further around the room, he spied one of the only patrons sitting alone. At the end of the bar, was a dark-haired, scruffy-looking man in a threadbare hoodie. He wasn’t sure what he was sipping on, but he could imagine what it might be.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s Shane,” piped up Elliott. Was he watching him the whole time? “He’s not all that unpleasant, he’s probably just not eager to mingle because of all the new people.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What, is he the resident alcoholic?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Former resident alcoholic. He probably only drinking sparkling water right now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase tried to subtly glance at Shane’s glass. It did seem to be colourless. He guessed he could trust this info.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, he’s just grumpy?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He might just be waiting on his spouse, they’re livelier than he is.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase didn’t have much of a chance to properly process some of those words when a skirt flashed across his vision. He turned so his gaze could properly focus and noticed someone kneeling on a bar stool for some reason, leaning over, talking to Shane, who was visibly more cheerful at this strange girl that had just dashed up to the bar.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>No, not a girl, the voice seemed a touch too deep. Or maybe…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ah, he was caught staring again. Shane had pointed over to him, and that person had spun to face him. They were wearing a button-up short sleeve men’s shirt with the skirt. A strange look to match a strange person. Before Chase could try to escape, they practically pranced up to his position and held out a hand. Dirt was engrained in chopped nails.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hello, stranger! How do you do?” they said with <em>way too much energy </em>for Chase right now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’d reached his handshake limit for the day, he felt, but he lightly shook it anyway. “I’m… tired.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A hearty laugh followed. Funny, he expected a giggle from this experience of a person. “Understandable. The name’s Audie. I’m a farmer here. Well, not here, over there, but like, here, you know?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Uh, yeah?” A farmer? In a miniskirt? Now he’d seen it all. “I’m Chase.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nice to meetcha, Chase! I still need to meet all your friends, but I see you’re already friends with Elliott, huh?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’re not-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’ve been getting acquainted.” Elliott interrupted with a Polite Smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s so cool! I’m glad you’re fitting in.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Uh, yeah.” This interaction was draining the last bit of energy he had somehow mustered not too long ago. Thankfully though, Marnie had called Audie away, probably to introduce them to more ‘new friends’, and they left as quickly as they came, this time with Shane in tow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase turned back to Elliott with a quizzical look, as if to ask ‘what the hell just happened?’ Elliott gave a Genuine Smile this time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They’re the polar opposite of Shane, aren’t they? You’ll get used to it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase reached for a jug of water and a glass. He had to hydrate, or he’d collapse. “’They’, huh? And you said ‘spouse’ before, right?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elliott shifted in his seat. “Yeah, they’re non-binary. Is that an issue?” He didn’t sound defensive, but definitely serious.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, it isn’t.” He poured a glass. “And everyone is cool with that?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s not much of an issue, no. Lewis grumbled about forms, but he isn’t bothered either in reality. He even adjusted some of the paperwork to suit them.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase silently sipped his water. So, someone was that flamboyantly queer in this town and… people were fine with that? Even that grump of a mayor?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…are you alright there?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah. I was just thinking, it might not be so bad here after all.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why’s that?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Never mind,” Chase replied, with a smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As much as he was ready for an early night after a long day, he wished it were of his own volition, and not because Chloe wanted to go to bed. Because he would really rather not be tasked with looking after her. He tried to push Candace into taking care of her like she did the entire trip and most of today, but…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You promised Owen you’d look after her.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He hated that she tried to use the Owen card. He had been waiting outside of the bathroom for Chloe, who had dragged him over to ‘watch the door’. Who knew of the promise as well, for that matter. He shuffled from foot to foot, wanting to just scoot and leave her here for Candace to deal with.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just cos he said that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea. Can you imagine me looking after a kid? Besides, you’ve been doing a good job so far.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Candace had shaken her head, her still knotty blue hair swaying from side to side, her hands nervously gripping her woolen cardigan.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sh-she likes you though, and you can look after her better once she’s back to her normal self. I’m t-too slow and boring.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re<em> fine</em> Candace. It’s not like you have to match her energy, even I can’t.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“T-Then won’t you be fine too?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He didn’t want to admit she had a point. He just didn’t make a strong argument. Yeah, that’s it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He sighed and turned over in his bed. Of course, after telling Gus about this, he assigned them to a two-bed room together. Chloe tossed and turned in the bed at the other wall. Too scared to sleep, perhaps. He hoped that she wouldn’t ask to sleep in his bed to calm her nightmares. Those hopes diminished when he heard her chuck the blankets off and tippy-tap on over across the floorboards.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Chase, I’m scared and lonely. Owen would let me sleep in his bed when I’m scared.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Again with the Owen card. Well, he wouldn’t give in this time, he swore it. He turned over and almost gave a death stare but tried to soften it for her sake. Not that it was easy to see it in the dim moonlight anyway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Can I sleep with you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No can do, it’ll be cramped in here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But you’re smaller than Owen,” she tipped her head to the side, genuinely confused why her cousin’s friend couldn’t grant this simple request. Ah, youth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So? This bed’s probably smaller.” It definitely was. He’d studied Owen’s bed more than he liked to admit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I guess…” she didn’t seem completely satisfied though. She jumped from foot to foot, Owen’s shirt (which, of course, was still packed under the guise of him coming) hanging loosely over her small frame. “Will I ever see him again?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chase sighed, he’d expected this question eventually, but he wasn’t prepared to tell the truth- that he didn’t know. No one did, not even Owen. So, he lied instead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah. He has to look after your grandpa, but you’ll see him again one day. He can’t leave Grandpa all alone, can he?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe pouted, “but he left me alone! Why couldn’t Grandpa come too?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The boat ride wasn’t fun, was it? Your grandpa is old, it would’ve been hard for him.” Chase reluctantly reached out of the blankets to put a hand on her arm, to still her. “And you’re not alone anyway, you have all of us to keep you company.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe still wasn’t happy, but it seems that they’d finally reached an agreement. She nodded and pattered back to her own bed. “Yeah.” She said as she got under the covers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Goodnight, Chloe.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Night-night, Chase.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He turned back away from her and rubbed at his face. It seemed like he handled it fine tonight, but he wasn’t sure he could keep this up.</p>
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